Existing

Ya' know, sometimes I honestly wonder why I try...  I feel as if every effort I make in any direction is in vain and that, no matter how hard I try, I cannot make a difference in my pathetic excuse of a life.  Life has become just a bunch of scary and painful experiences strung together.  Come to think of it, I don't think this can count as "living."  Life has purpose and meaning, I don't enjoy those comforts.  I don't think I would even call this "surviving" because that has the connotation of success - at least in some degree.  I would rather call this "existing" - I'm here and not dead and that is all I can say for myself.

I don't have the words to express adequately the frustration and angst I feel towards me and my existence.  I'm frustrated because I have many reasons, things, and people that should make me happy, but I feel nothing but darkness, fear, and helplessness.  I want to do well in school, be alive and vibrant at twenty three, and at least be worth admiration and respect.  All I get (and I guess deserve) is mediocre grades, existing on the edge of oblivion, and I don't deserve respect - I'm just kidding myself on that one.

All I want to do is to go crawl into a dark and forgotten corner, curl up, and go into a dreamless sleep and never wake up.  Not only could I use the sleep, I would welcome such oblivion.  I'd be out of the way, I wouldn't bother anyone, I wouldn't hurt anyone else, and I could slip away from everyone's memories and disappear.